Letting Go of Everthing You Know
by brit.brutal
Summary: "You will lose him. You will lose him, just like you lost Windu. No one can escape their fate in the Empire. Not even the last of the Jedi." After the Purge, the Jedi Way is thrown out the window. Emotions,love and revenge,run extremely high. Info inside.
1. Chapter 1

Better explanation of summary: This story is about the ruthless, vicious, and never-ending cycle of revenge. Set during Episodes II, III, and in between III and IV. Kitell Faulkner is a padawan learner, about to go into her trials by the end of AOTC. She studies under Mace Windu. *SPOILER ALERT IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE FILMS* Flash forward to ROTS, where Palpatine and Anakin kill off Windu. Kitell becomes a member of the Jedi Council, but is not quite a Master yet. She avoids being executed during Order 66 and takes up being a Bounty Hunter of Jedi (after the war has settled down, set after ROTS), under the false pretense that she is bringing them in to collect credits—she is not, her goal is to build an army of what Jedi she can find to defeat the Sith, with the ulterior motive of satisfying the vengeance she feels for her dead Master. What she doesn't know is that Boba Fett has put his own price on her head, never forgiving the death of his father brought on by Windu on Geonosis. Will Kitell and the sole Jedi she manages to scrounge up defeat the Sith in this AU fiction, or will Fett extract his revenge first and prevent Kitell and her recovered Jedi friend from meeting their goal?

[A/N: This is told in the first person point of view because that is the style I use in the prose I write outside the realm of fan fiction literature. This a very short chapter. I expect to produce more lengthy ones. And if no one reads the piece on here immediately, I have a feeling I will continue updating the story at my leisure because I really like the idea, so if a reader happens to come along down the road and would like to read more, just leave a message or a review asking for an update and I will put it up.]

My Master's voice came floating above me, as though he was circling overhead, or his presence was just some hokey, spiritual form instead of the physical. He sounded far off, I thought, as I kept my eyes shut, my eyes running slightly wet from the light that hit and irritated the closed lids. I tried to avert my attention from my current discomfort. Being hung up on or annoyed by certain petulant aspects of the world were not the Jedi way. I had been keeping up with a mental list as to what was and what was not the Jedi way. There turned out to be a lot of things on such a list; I couldn't remember half of the things I added to it on a daily basis.

"You must _focus_." His tone was harsh in the latter word of his demand—he must have read my mind. It wouldn't surprise me if he had, just as I wouldn't be surprised if he gave me certain mind checks on a daily basis. So far he hadn't caught me on a bad day, because I have yet to be reprimanded for illogical and less than Jedi thoughts.

He continued, "You must let go of all emotions and qualms, yet remain vigilant of your surroundings. You must open your senses through the Force, first and foremost. The Force is what will give you absolute certainty in the face of the uncertain. That is, if you know how to read it, utilize it, as I have been training you to."

"Yes, Master."I could only affirm what he just said.

It was the same thing every padawan learner heard day in and day out, not only from the Master they were studying under and going on missions with, but of other Jedi whenever they were present in the Academy. Lately, every Jedi elder had a lot to say to us learners, almost as though they were preparing us for something and we needed to get all the advice we could before that something happened.

"You also need to place utmost _trust_ in your fellow Jedi, just as you should trust me now."

I could hear him walking a perimeter around me, taking careful, measured steps. Mace Windu was one of the most meticulous people I have ever known from the Academy, whereas other Jedi, especially of the higher ranked personnel, were reckless, flippant and facetious in their arrogance bred from their more than competent skill. Windu was tough, even mean-spirited at times. He meant well. The crisp leaves crackled under his muddy boots. His hands were most likely clasped behind his back. I felt his eyes upon me and I knew when they left me.

"Begin."

I shut my eyes tighter and focused all of my attention upon myself, as I lay on the concrete slab. It was like a cold, external tomb. Yavin IV had provided another cool day, as the previous had been. At least it wasn't in its humid, jungle land season yet. My Master Windu was instructing me on the physical power of the Force. How Jedi use it to better suspend themselves when in combat, when jumping and flipping through the air. The Force is what helps us to have that extra, super acrobatic advantage. My current lesson was for short-lived levitation. Very few Jedi had the power, my Master being one of them. Master Windu was one of the forerunners in combat, beating out even Master Kenobi at times; however, Master Kenobi was arguably the best at diplomacy and negotiation skills which I believed was far more valuable, regarding our way of life.

"I trust _you _to trust _me _in that I will not allow you to fall."

"Yes, Master." I muttered it, sure that I didn't even make coherent speech in the slightest. I was more focused on my impossible task at hand than practiced in the arts of speech at the moment.

He continued pacing around the tomb I was trying to pull off of. I pulled my senses to me, to see if it would aid my concentration in any way. To see if the nature of the planet and its tranquility would be any sort of beneficial factor to me at the moment. Somewhere a bird chirped in a treetop in the distance, a gust of wind caressed the skin that was not covered by my neutral colored robes, the scent of wild and alien flowers wafted over to me. And then, yes. Master Windu was correct about trust and certainty, just as I learned he was correct about everything that he talked about.

If he was going to speak to me about falsehoods, then he would hold his tongue.

I felt him shuffle closer just as I opened my eyes and broke my stream of consciousness and focus. His hands were swift, flying under my back in the split second before I hit the tomb, his forearms stabling me as he caught me, and helped me back to my feet.

"Thank you, Master." I felt my ears burn in embarrassment at the fact that I failed my task in less than two minutes.

"I told you I would not allow you to fall."

I locked eyes with him and nodded curtly. There was no one in the galaxy that I trusted more than my fellow Jedi. I held Master Windu in higher regard, just as every Padawan held their respective Master in higher regard than anyone else they were familiar with. Padawans held utmost respect and gratitude toward their most important mentor, just as the mentors felt a fond obligation and tie to their learner.

Master Windu was like a father to me, and that was something invaluable and irreplaceable.

"Let us return to Corescant."

"Yes, Master."

We boarded the a ship from the Republic and programmed the R-4 unit to start the engines and destination.

"What do you think of the young Skywalker, Kitell?"

Master Windu was always voicing his opinion about the hotheaded padawan and his competency, or lack thereof. The vast majority's belief and trust in the boy irked and worried Master Windu at times. Although that was something he never voiced as blatantly as other things about him, I knew that it was something that troubled him profoundly.

"He is the Chosen One. We should have nothing but the purest faith in him."

Mace chuckled at this. "A warmhearted sentiment, my padawan learner. What do you _really_ think?"

I could only smile at his laughter at my obvious forced answer. "I think that he needs to calm down and become more patient. I think that in due time he could either become very helpful or very dangerous to us in the near future."

He was nodding at this. I knew that he could sense the irate tone I was harboring. "And this is not coming from jealousy?"

"Jealousy?" I was taken aback, giving him a hard look.

"Yes, Kitell, jealousy. From how you were supposed to become Master Kenobi's padawan learner, but were instead replaced by Anakin by the request of Master Jinn."

"That is not true."

Master Windu gave me an even harder look than I previously gave him before allowing his eyes to wander out of a window and look at the surface of the planet that we were now departing from in totality.

"I know that at some point you saw that being assigned to me would become anything but counterproductive. I know that you are far better at avoiding conflict at all cost. That you are a smooth talker with all the patience in the galaxy like Master Kenobi and that he was the better match in you honing these skills. The truth is, you were very weak willed when it came to wielding a light saber and that was something that needed to be rectified. It only makes sense that you should learn from someone who could teach you far more than the others."

I was nodding profusely at this point, watching space as though I had never seen it before, just as he was doing.

"This holds fair substance, Master."

"Indeed?" He wanted me to continue, to explain myself, to prove to him that I fully understood what he was trying to tell me.

"Yes. Had Master Jinn not asked Master Kenobi to take Skywalker under his tutelage, Skywalker would have been assigned to him regardless, simply to learn more of patience and humility, just as I had to learn to become stronger."

"Indeed." Master Windu affirmed my answer and stretched backward, looking at me. "It is up to you after your trials to decide which medium of your teachings you will hone far finer than what you are working on now."

"Yes, Master."

[A/N: This story is going to follow a chronological timeline in accordance to the order of the films. This set up scene is just to show the depth of the friendship and respect that Windu and Kitell hold for each other. The ties that Kitell holds with Obi-Wan will hold far more substance in the chapters to come. The reservations that Kitell and Windu share about Anakin hold more substance, as well. Thanks so much for reading! If anyone has any questions, comments, or concerns, feel free to leave them in a review! ]


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I forgot to put this in the first chapter. I, of course, own nothing (characters, places, canon, etc) in this story. The only thing I own is the Original Character, Kitell Faulkner, and the AU storyline that I made up.

I was sitting on the floor of a training room along with the eldest of younglings. We ranged in the ages of sixteen to nineteen—we were the ones closest to finishing our trials and were a handful of Hopefuls hoping to pass into Knighthood soon. Master Kenobi was instructing us on one of our last lessons in diplomacy. What else we could possibly learn from the skill would present itself outside of the classroom and out during missions.

He was walking circles around the eight or so of us, hands clasped behind his back. He was speaking quietly. If we so much as breathed too loudly, we would miss a word of his wisdom.

"The bond that Jedi share with one another by way of the Force can be described as nothing but brother- and sisterhood; however, it is common that from time to time you will have a dispute with a fellow Jedi." He looked down at all of us, one by one, as though he were trying to weed out which ones have gotten into any sort of argument that we kept secret from any of the elders out of fear of some sort of serious verbal ramification taken place as punishment. "Whether or not that dispute evolves into some form of altercation is upon the Jedi involved in their conflict at hand. Today you will practice what it means to be patient and open minded when dealing with a difference of opinion, especially a conflicting opinion from someone who is on your side." He cut his eyes at a select few when he mentioned patience. "You will learn that negotiation and the power of words—when used correctly and eloquently—can most likely outdo a lightsaber infused duel at any time. Please stand."

We obeyed him as he walked around each individual in the room. There was a tenseness between all of us. I was sure we could sense that in each other. Master Kenobi must have sensed it as well. He was sizing us up, determining who would make the best partners to enact the day's lesson.

"Faulkner and Skywalker. I would like to see the two of you to lead us into this exercise."

I turned around, being one of the few in the front row to seek out the young man who was towering over our fellow peers. He was the oldest Padawan in the room and the most powerful and experienced. I did not approve of Master Kenobi's choice, but it was to be practice, not a contest.

The other Padawans cleared out of the floor space and relocated to lining up against a far away wall to speculate, all breathing air of relief that they did not have to be the initial pairings of this latest experiment.

"Stand closer together." Master Kenobi shook one of his sleeves back to gesture with his hand, showing us how he needed us to follow his directions. "You need to be close enough to feel each others' change in emotions, to be finely attuned to your sharing of the Force."

Anakin took initiative to act on his Master's orders before I could, and stepped closer to me, closing the space to about a foot in between us. He looked down at me. I averted my eyes from his and tried to find something interesting on the wall ahead.

He smiled kindly down at me. "It's all right, Kitell. I'll help you out with whatever we're doing."

This brought my gaze back to him. I gave him a taken aback look, raising an eyebrow, "I appreciate your concern fuelled by your assumption of my ineptitude, but I assure you, Anakin, that I am fine."

He shrugged this off, "I apologize for being condescending, then."

"Apology accepted."I said this through gritted teeth. I always had a difficulty being around Anakin Skywalker for extended periods of time.

I found him overly pretentious at times with how reckless he was used to being. He was young and very sure of himself. His confidence was valuable, but he wasn't right all the time. He would find this out sometime.

Or I hoped he would.

"What do you need us to do, Master? Or are we supposed to stand here all day and attempt to read each others' thoughts?"

Master Kenobi pinched the bridge of his nose. "No, Anakin. I am going to tell the two of you a prompt of a plausible situation and you must talk each other through it and review each others' opinions as to what you believe would be the best decidision to make and then, if you differ, make a compromise regarding what you believe would be the best plan to go through with."

I was nodding, trying to prepare myself for the prompt. Maybe it was something I have already dealt with, which would help me in the long run. Anakin looked flustered.

"Who is the leader?"

I felt my eyes narrow on their own and felt my expression change into a rhetorical, '_Uh…what?'_ at the needless question. "There are no leaders, Anakin. We are comrades. We're in this together, equally."

"No, there always has to be a leader in situations like this. Someone is always the more powerful, the more levelheaded."He looked down at me like I was absolutely crazy for not believing him.

How dare I be so naive to doubt him?

I had to stand up for myself, to prove that what I had to say held ground, "And the other someone is the person there to save the 'leader' from them being so sure of themselves."

He was shaking his head, defying what I had to say."But in the end, the leader is always right. He is the leader for a reason."

"Leaders aren't always a 'he.'"

"They are in your case."

The room silenced even more, if that was possible.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, when have you ever led a mission with Master Windu in tow?"

"None, because I am a Padawan, just like yourself!"

"But at least I will be a Master soon and you will remain a Hopeful in the meantime—"

That was all I allowed him to get to before I tackled him around the middle. We both hit the ground, the sound of our bodies hitting the metallic flooring made a sickening echo. A few people gasped. Anakin and I tousled around, both of us fighting for dominance more so than hitting each other. When I assumed the dominance, I grabbed a fistful of his robes and yanked him off the ground before slamming him back down.

"You egotistical, supremacist—"

He reached up and slapped my face with all the power he had in his right arm and then some. It sent my head spinning and I toppled over beside him clutching my face. He grabbed my wrist in his and looked down at me. In his eyes, I saw fire. Burning anger, resentment, embarrassment. It was so intense that I yanked my wrist away from him. He looked at me, confused as to why I looked like he just tried to kill me.

"Anakin!" This was Obi-Wan's yell breaking through the brief stop in time that occurred during our rumble. "You made her bleed!"

He was referring to my busted lip. I was catching the blood with the sleeve of my robe.

"And Kitell." His voice was softer, but there was still an edge. He was used to having to reprimand Anakin by way of shouting at him, but so far as I knew, he hadn't yelled at much of any other Padawans. The disappointment in his, or any other Master's, voice nearly killed me. "You had no grounds to attack him like that. I am very surprised and disappointed in you. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

I picked myself up from the floor and nodded, giving everyone in the room a baleful look before stepping out and making my way to my quarters. I was sure that Master Windu would be informed of my antics of the afternoon. I only dreaded what he would think.

Anakin and I had the same punishment. We were to sit in a room of solitude and meditate upon what we did to each other. The reflection was to be used as a means of recompense for what had occurred. As long as Anakin and I did not have to face each other for a good while, that was good enough for me.

The Room of the Thousand Fountains was severely deprived of all life forms sans my Master and I. We were partaking in our nightly dual meditation. I broke out of my reverie first, listening to the steady and almost shallow fall of the water around us. The air was moistened. The greenery around us was thick and its scent cut into the air around us. I found myself becoming distracted by admiring the beauty around us that I always managed to neglect whenever I found myself in here alone. I never knew how much time passed in here, either. It was a surreal situation.

Time seemed to disappear, become illogical, needless. Time ceased being an importance to me in recent days—it never mattered what time it was, so long as my objectives and tasks were completed in a timely manner. Night and Day didn't seem to hold much of a meaning to me anymore.

I dared a glance over at Mace who was sitting in the same position as I: legs crossed under us, hands folded daintily, yet lazily in our laps, eyes closed, respiration calculated. Each breath mattered. I lightly cleared my throat, not to be rude, but to break the silence before my voice did.

"Master Windu?"

His shoulders relaxed and he heard the timid tone I had put to my voice. I did not know if he was angry with me from the previous altercation with Skywalker that I allowed to take place and took part in."Yes, Kitell?"He sounded level enough. I decided to go along with what I wanted to talk to him about.

"There are two matters I wish to discuss with you."I felt like I was pushing my luck with asking for his opinion, or more importantly, his approval.

"Go ahead, my apprentice."His eyes locked with mine, searching behind my eyes and into my soul to better understand the meaning behind my words and questions. I suddenly felt better about what I wanted to converse with him.

"The first is regarding the final aspect of my trial which I have previously somehow avoided accomplishing before all the others."

"The Trial of Skill."He replied, conveying that he knew what I was talking about and did not need to further explain the subject matter.

"Yes, Master."

"Continue."

"I wondered, if perhaps, instead of venturing to the caves of Ilum in search of the crystals to build my lightsaber beyond the skill of Padawan, we could venture to Mygeeto instead. I can pilot my way through the asteroid belt surrounding the planet."

"This is somewhat unsound, my apprentice. The asteroid field is very treacherous. Only the most skilled of fliers have ever maneuvered their way beyond it. I can understand your proposal and I accept your request. It will be daunting, but I have faith in you."

"Thank you, Master."

"What else is troubling you?"He uncrossed his legs, rested his hands on his knees.

There was a beat that passed. For a moment, I was unsure whether or not I should continue for fear of sounding crazy, unbelievable. I could have told Master Windu _never mind, _but it would have plagued me in the back of my mind for the longest and I had no doubt that it would trouble Mace as well, until I finally decided to bring it back up once more.

"Sometimes I See things."

His body tensed. He leaned forward on his knees and clasped his hands together, tightly, looking beyond me, beyond the lush green and misty sprinkles emitted by the fountains. His focus was on pure nothingness. This worried me until he spoke again, "I see."

I felt the need to redeem myself by beginning to babble, however, I was babbling the truth, "And it's not _all_ the time, but it still happens."

"How long has this been troubling you?"

"For as long as I can remember. There will be moments when a vision appears in my mind, a scene yet to have been played out. Sometimes it will be strong enough and it is like I am there while it is 'happening.'"

He brought his attention back to me. Whether he was worried or perturbed, he did not allow it to mar his countenance. "Have you had any recent visions?"

I nodded, "Today."

"When?" He urged me to tell him, as though he believed I was going to change my mind after all and keep this to myself.

"This afternoon when Skywalker and I got into our scuffle. Our eyes locked, and in an instant it was almost as though I was looking at a different person."

He cocked his head to the side. His eyes narrowed a bit in an analytical sort of concentration. "Could you better describe this 'different person'?"

Another presence came upon us and we silenced ourselves as Aayla Secura entered the Room for her own evening meditation. She crossed past us, nodded in acknowledgment, and found a spot in the far east end. Master Windu and I took this as our cue to leave the silent room—we had no right to interrupt her concentration. Nobody had previously disrespected our allotted time in there by talking, and we were not going to do the same.

I held my tongue until we were in the Map Room, which was just as empty as the Room of the Thousand Fountains. Master Windu kept looking around us to solidify our belief and dampen our minor bout of paranoia of being over heard. I didn't want anyone but Mace to acknowledge my probable Seeing ability nor the seemingly problem I had found in Anakin. I didn't want anyone but my Master to know of this until my hunches were turned to fact.

"I can't describe it," I continued, looking up at him. I felt sick in my stomach and tried to will the feeling away. "It was gone as soon as it was there. But he was different is all I can remember. And then I was afraid. Unsettled. I just wanted to be away from him."

Mace crossed his arms over his chest and stared back down at me. "I can understand why he would make you uneasy, Kitell. He is a very powerful Padawan and I have full belief that he will become a great Jedi Master in a short amount of time; however, I also believe the outcome of this severe desire of him feeling the need to constantly prove himself will not be well, for anyone. He must be watched carefully, and I feel that Obi-Wan is the best individual to do this."

It always bothered me that Master Windu voiced his faith in other Padawans before he would me. I knew that it must have been a part of the humbling process, but it did not help with battling my human emotional roots that tied into the fear of inadequacy, low self-esteem, and possible self-loathing. A little praise would aid me in the belief that I was making some sort of progress. A bit of selfishness in me just wanted to know if he was actually proud of me, if it was only a little bit.

Then again, I was sure there must be times that even he is not so sure of himself and would want nothing more than someone to tell him that they believed he was making the right decision. That he was doing very well, as he always did.

I allowed this to distract me no further. "Yes, Master."

Mace was still trying to rationalize. "Perhaps it was just his anger and ferocity of the fight that contorted your impression of him."

I nodded in agreement. I would rather wholeheartedly believe in this theory than accept the fact that I may have Seen something. That was just one aspect of the Force that I was not ready nor even _wanted_ to deal with. In the face of Master Windu's rationalism, I couldn't help but have an inkling that he, too, was hoping to avoid this Seeing predicament all together, and that was just as well with me.

He did not further question me about it, nor asked me to give him other instances of which I believe I may have Seen something.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Again, nothing is mine, except for the OC and made up plot line. Any info that I gathered beyond the films and learned from the EU was learned from Wookipedia.

[A/N: Okay, the first two chapters were flashbacks. To avoid confusion, I will label chapters in accordance to which year they occurred. 19BBY is the year the Jedi Purge and the Rise of the Galactic Empire occurred, so 15BBY is 4 years later. Kitell was about 17 in 19BBY, so she is about 20-21 in 15BBY, which is about the age a Padawan graduates to the level of Jedi—or so I read somewhere, regarding the age that Obi-Wan was when he shed the title of Padawan. There will be more flashbacks than just the first two, so I will move back and forward a lot. If any of this is confusing, just let me know. The occurrences of 15BBY are the present, or real time, aspects of the story.]

15 BBY

Lately I have been allowing my memories to get the best of me. I thought about Master Windu all the time these days, if only the anger of his death was a reminder that I needed to get a move on with my search for Jedi if I was going to try and build a troop of peacekeepers to lead a revolution against the Sith in charge of the tyrannical Galactic Empire that had been in reign for close to four years now.

I found myself on an overlooked planet. This seemed to happen to me a lot. I believed that the seediest planets may produce luck in my search. When I turned out to be wrong, I still didn't learn from my mistakes—I still looked on the shadiest of planets for people that I hoped against hope were still alive. So far, I hadn't even sensed them through the Force.

There was a cantina on Ord Mantell. There was a cantina (or several cantinas) on nearly every planet, but this one nearly surprised me. Ord Mantell was a giant scrap yard, a breeding ground and cesspool for scoundrels and betting men addicted to the underground and junky pod races that seldomly occurred. I had stopped at this planet because however cluttered it was, it proved to be a splendid hideout for renegades. And renegades were in my line of work.

And renegades always needed a drink, so I would start looking in the cantina.

The establishment looked as old as the planet. It was rusting and looked like it one scraped one's skin on a protruding nail or scrap of metal, they would die from infection. There were no doors, they had fallen in and had become an unofficial sort of welcoming mat. The cantina proved to be refugee from the light and heat of the outside. It was darker inside, much like a cave. The only lights came from the ones focused upon the stage where a terrible band was playing. The clink of glasses added to the hidden merriment. There were arguments heard over laughter. A plethora of alien races were crammed into this room.

People backed away from me when I walked in, tripping over themselves to get out of my way. Others muttered to each other,

"It's that Bounty Hunter. The one after the Jedi."

"Who's hired him?"His friend wanted to know.

"No one knows."

"I wonder if he's paid well."

"I heard he's killed over two dozen exiled Jedi since Order 66."

"I heard he's self-hired and is just doing the Empire a favor."Someone from across the cantina butted in on this conversation.

Everyone fell silent when I made my way up to the counter. I felt their eyes on me, full of fear or hatred. The hatred was mostly fuelled by paranoia of them worrying if I was after them.

A common misconception of my gender followed my notoriety—the clone armor I clad myself in propelled them to believe that I was a male, most likely a mercenary clone. I Hunted in Jet Trooper armor and weaponry that I stole from the 187th legion that my old Master commanded during the Clone Wars. A DC-17 hand blaster rested at my hip, thermal detonators on my belt, jet pack on my back that chose to malfunction from time to time because of all the time it saw in combat with its previous owner.

Though I possessed an ample amount of weapons and ammunition that I had bartered for on every other planet I've visited, I still fought with the lightsaber I forged nearly four years ago whenever I had to succumb to hand to hand combat. A rumor had been bred that it was a weapon I stole from a Jedi I slaughtered sometime during my Reign of Terror—this was not true, I had not come across a Jedi in the three years or so that I had been on the search for them. It was true, however, that I had killed individuals who had severely threatened my well being.

I had not followed the Jedi code since the rise of the Empire and started to slip up when it came to restraining myself of certain emotions. I know that I had not fallen to the Dark Side. I just saw no point in following the rules of an Order that was now long since finished. It had failed. And while I was on the run from any other Hunters or Imperial militant, I would do whatever it took to survive and make my way across the galaxy to reconnect with any surviving Jedi, even if that meant going against the Code.

A Mon Calamarian was working the bar and he gave me a terrified look with I approached him. I crossed my arms in front of my chest, using my body language to show him and the other patrons in the bar that I was more uncomfortable than they were, that I didn't mean them any harm in the slightest. I ordered my drink and he brought it back, almost spilling it because of his shaky hands.

"I'm looking for a Rodian named Jeel Repsah." I explained to him. My voice even came out sounding masculine with it being muffled through the speaker of the helmet."He's A.W.O.L from the Galactic Empire Navy. Have you seen him?" I collected other Bounties on the side as a means to acquire credits so I could afford to travel and keep myself fed, etc.

Repsah was known for jettisoning off an Imperial Star Destroyer with the experimental plans of a new TIE model that he was planning to sell to counterintelligence alliances, notably, a growing population who called themselves the Rebel Alliance.

The bartender shook his head while I finished my drink.

"Are you sure?" I was exasperated. I needed to collect this specific bounty. "I paid a lot of credits out my own pocket to come all the way across the galaxy for him. He's a wanted man."

"I got no reason to protect him, ma'am."

I gave him a searching look. I had learned to trust no one from the Empire and the double crossing that had come my way for no apparent reason.

"Okay, thank you for your time. Just put the drink on my tab."

"Bounty Hunters don't pay here."

_They're under the impression that I'm like Fett and Greedo_, I thought, then aloud, "Yeah?"

He nodded, proving what he meant.

"Thanks." I smiled at him, but that was something he did not see through my helmet.

I turned to leave and the noise of the cantina started up again, along with the rickety band. What caught my eye before I even made it out of the door was a group of Rodians huddled together, silent and watching me. I turned on my heel and walked up to them instead of leaving the establishment.

"Any of you seen Jeel Repsah?"

Four shook their head; one smirked and snorted.

I glared at the latter, however, all he saw was his own reflection in my visor. "Where is he? I know you know."

He shrugged, still smirking.

"Tell me. _Now._"

He looked very taken aback at the sharpness and hateful tone in my voice. His hand went to his blaster hanging from its holster on his belt. I smacked it out of his grasp and it slid silently across the floor and under the counter, into the dusty and littered shadows beyond. I drew my blue saber at the same instant, twisting my wrist full circle before pointing it at his throat.

"He's at the repair garage! Past the stilt swamp!" He breathed, panicked. I felt severe remorse that it took me to threaten his life for him to become honest with me.

"And if I don't find him?"

He shook his head again. I sensed that he knew the answer, but I also foresaw him not telling me willingly.

I drew my saber back and holstered it once more, and drew my pistol all in the same moment, as though I were a born gunslinger and shot him in his left shoulder. He screamed in agony and slumped to the floor. His blood was quickly soaking his hand and vest.

Everyone backed away and silence fell once again. Some people ran out the open door.

"Tell me!" I shouted, losing all positive temperament, "Tell me or you die right here!"

"The living spaces past the transport compound!"

I went to retrieve his gun and dropped it in his lap. "Have a nice life." I turned to leave again, and directed toward them, almost as an afterthought, "Anyone else have anything to say? A snicker of humor to share because you have some information, too?"

"Yeah! I got somethin' to say!" Someone called from the back. "Get lost, Bounty Hunter!"

People gasped. I'm sure the majority was excited and expecting another show ending in someone getting shot.

I bowed at that person, whoever they were, in a sardonic way and took my leave.

The temperature had gone up outside and it felt like the planet was on fire. Far off sounds of metal being crushed and mining processes being taken place were maddening, deafening. I was not going to be able to stand being on this planet any longer than I absolutely had to. I had been dropped off on a transport that would not return until Primeday—nearly twenty hours from now.

It was times like these that I wished I owned a ship. Not a large an extravagant one, just one to get around in that wouldn't get too beat up upon entering parsecs. I was in enough debt already and it didn't necessarily make it better to spend money I should be paying the Hutts to get on ships that just brought me on wild goose chases. A ship of my own would save me time (time I wasted on waiting for late or missed transports) and the money I didn't have.

I wanted to be off the planet by nightfall, but I didn't see that happening. Ord Mantell just seemed like the kind of place where everything shut down and was non-existent at night. I didn't know what to expect and was unsure if there were any unfriendly creatures that roamed then. I figured if I found transportation anywhere between then and the next two hours, i would shoot for getting out of this planetary system and go back to Coruscant to see if I could spy on anyone affiliated with the Empire, to see if any of them have heard any rumors of any Jedi whereabouts.

If I found Repsah, I was sure he would have information regarding any Jedi. If he had what it took to lift TIE prints from the inner circle of Imperial figureheads, he knew a whole lot more than experimental spacecraft projects.

I walked over to the living spaces and found a couple of Bothans talking with a Rodian who had what looked like a stabilizer under his arm that belonged to a landcruiser, or maybe a Swoop. I approached after his company dispersed.

"Mr. Repsah?"

"Yes?" He looked nervous, glancing around to see if there were enough people around to hear him if he had to holler for help.

"I'm assuming you know who I am."

"I do. And I am assuming that you are aware of my misgivings. I have stolen the TIE plans, but I have already pawned them off to the person I stole them for."

"I am not interested in that."I didn't mean to brush him off like that, I just felt like I was wasting time, which was quaint because back when I was a Padawan, I never worried about time. Now it was literally of the essence.

"You want to know what else I know."

"Yes."

He looked me over, shifted his object to under the other arm. "I know who you look for. And I also know why you carry a lightsaber." He studied my visor, as though he could see beyond it. Maybe he could. All I knew was that I had a good feeling about him. I let him continue, "I don't know what your purpose is, but I can help you. And I don't want your money. I'm about to go into a Swoop race tonight. That's what this is for." He indicated the stabilizer. "I hope to make money in the race. Anyway. You're in the wrong cantina. I hear the best one in the galaxy is in Mos Eisley on Tatooine."

"_Tatooine?_" I expressed skepticism.

He shook his head at my doubt.. "Trust me. I wouldn't send you across the galaxy if it wasn't the best. A lot of characters are regulars there. All I can tell you is this. There's a man named Ben that's there every evening. He's a wily one. Heard he used to be a General in the Clone War, possibly more than a general. Something more important."

"How is that helpful to me?" I meant to sound grateful, gratuitous to him trying to help me, but the name was not ringing any bells to me.

He held his free hand up, showing me he had one last thing to say to me. "Are you familiar with a man who used to be called The Negotiator?"


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Again, nothing is mine, except for the OC and made up plot line. Any info that I gathered beyond the films and learned from the EU was learned from Wookiepedia.

[A/N: I have myself slightly confused with my time line. The first two chapters were set during 22BBY, the year of the Battle of Geonosis. I just want to make sure that was clear, seeing as how I mentioned that Anakin was still a Padawan. So Kitell is 18 (I wanted to bump her up a year since I'm getting into her and Obi-Wan's relationship) in 22BBY and has entered Knighthood some time before 19BBY, she is 21 in this year. So she is about 24-25 in 15BBY. I am terrible with time lines sometimes. I apologize for any confusion! My bad!]

22BBY

Master Windu and I had returned to Coruscant from a brief diplomatic visit to Corellia regarding some issues between farmers and them wanting to keep their land, and planetary figureheads wanting to commandeer the aforementioned property for reasons to do with the ongoing war. I didn't have much to say on the mission, much to my master's (and my own) surprise. My mind was elsewhere. I was worried about the impact this war was going to have on the immediate future. Master Yoda would advise me not to harp on things such as this. I thought it best to listen to the part of myself that reasoned like he, as best as I could, anyway.

Master Windu kept inquiring me of my emotional well-being every so often the entire journey back to the Jedi Temple. I reassured him that all was well—something I have been learning to feign very well, as of late. I didn't have the guts to tell him that I felt like something terrible was about to happen. I was beginning to feel paranoid and worried over nothing, but over everything at the same time. It was the kind of panicked worry that sends one into a frenzy and makes them physically ill over the guilt of harboring such feelings. Several times in the past couple of day, I found myself kneeling to stabilize myself as I was so sure I was going to become sick. I knew it was from the guilt, as I said, more than anything. The guilt of actually keeping these occurrences of weak willed emotions from my Master and other mentors.

Then again, I seemed to believe I had no right to bring something so vague up when I couldn't even explain what I even _thought _was about to go wrong. It only fuelled my belief that Anakin was perhaps right about me after all. He was a very intuitive young man, so why not?

All these things I pondered whilst staring at my datapad. I had it turned off at the moment and was just ogling the blank screen. I didn't know if I wanted to read something or add to my daily journal log, but there I was, just wasting time. I drummed my fingers upon it and stared almost forlornly out the sole window in my small room. It was growing dark. Perhaps I would go out and watch the sunset in a few moments.

I was brought out of my reverie when someone's words cut through my mind and crossed my thoughts.

"Master Windu told me that you created your own lightsaber today."It was one of the most familiar voices I knew. The well versed, perfect diction choosing (even when using more colloquial terms), articulate, lighthearted, and kind tone that I secretly went out of my way nearly every other day to hear.

In my latest years, I had learned how to feign needing assistance in matters I already fully comprehended, making sure it was a matter that Master Kenobi was an expert upon. In lieu of tradition, it always worked out and he would tutor me on the things I needed extra help with. He always gave me a knowing sort of glance, but never removed himself from the room or told me that he knew I knew damn good and well what I was asking him about.

"I did."It was lying beside me on my bed. I gave it a fond look.

The process of crafting it was the longest, most painstakingly event that I ever experienced thus far into my life. Because I had gotten frustrated and because it took so long, I expected that lightsaber to last me the rest of my life. Otherwise, I was not going to make my next one.

I paid very meticulous attention to the handle of the weapon more so than any other part. I crafted it to be sunken in the area where my hand gripped so that the wider part of the handle directly above and below my fist almost encased and secured my hand. I always had issues with losing the sabers the Academy loaned out to Padawans, simply because they did not fit my hand properly enough and that I was apt to have a terrible case of sweaty palms and lose my grip. It had taken me so many years to build my own.

His eyes wandered over at it in interest. He uncrossed his arms and smiled from the threshold of my open bedroom door. I was going to ask him if he would like to join me inside the small room the Jedi Academy accommodated everyone who lived within its walls with, but he went ahead and let himself in and sat down at the foot bed. I was sitting near the headboard, legs crossed, my datapad still balanced on my lap.

He reached over and traced his fingertips over the metal of the handle before picking it up gingerly and turning it over in his hands.

"Where did you get the crystals from?"

"Mygeeto, after all."I couldn't help but smile at this, because not only did I get my request approved, I also proved my skills as a very competent pilot and passed my Trial of Skill.

"Ah! Master Windu sincerely _did _approve of your request!"He grinned at this, laying my newly formed weapon back down to where he found it.

"Yes."

"Very good. And which crystals are they made from?"He shook some hair from his eyes and gave me a searching look, as though he were trying to beat me to my own answer.

"Mephite."

He nodded his approval. "Excellent."

I nodded in agreement, and then decided to change the subject, just to keep him around longer than he had planned to stick around to begin with, "I heard that you had a very important mission to be taking care of for the past few days."

He sighed and rubbed his face briskly with both hands. This wasn't the sort of conversation starter he wanted anyone to bring up and I automatically regretted it for causing him discomfort. A small bit of me, however, did not regret it, if only it being in a very selfish way—I had enjoyed, on a raw and nearly atavistically aroused scale, the world-weary look that overcame him once my statement was out. In the past few months, when it came to Obi-Wan, my attraction to him was unavoidable. I knew Jedi and Jedi-to-Be were supposed to leave all attachment behind at a very young age and become as monastic as possible. To me, Obi-Wan was _the _most monastic, which made my plight hopeless and pathetic.

The forbiddeness of the situation was probably what made the attraction more intense; however, when it got to the point of me worrying about him whenever he went on missions—especially when he went on missions _alone_—and wanting to spend more time with him (because it felt like we were all running out of time), I began to worry. And it wasn't a one way street. Obi-Wan gladly went along with having to help me out just to have a few stolen moments we would spend strolling down a corridor, in silence, in laughter, or in conversation, it did not matter. And he had made stopping by my room on a nightly basis a regular thing in the past four months or so.

We never talked about what these moments meant, if the meant anything at all. They just happened, and their lack of closure bothered me more than the possibility of being rejected.

I looked back at him. He was still rubbing his face in a fatigued sort of anguish. He was tired. He didn't even have to tell me just exactly how tired he was—I could feel it radiating from him. He sighed into his cupped hands over his face. "Yes, yes. My mission."

I patted him on his knee. He peered over his fingertips and down to my hand and smiled before gently taking my hand in his and squeezing, allowing his thumb to trace a delicate and invisible line upon my skin, before pulling away. My mind slipped up and left completely for a good minute.

I came back into myself and asked a follow up question, "So, how _was_ the mission?"

He disregarded my question when he locked his eyes with mine. There was a sort of thunder present, but behind the thunder was a softened…something. The gaze made my heart heavy and filled me with a false nostalgia that only lovers could share upon meeting once again. I allowed myself to breathe again. I studied one aspect of his face—his beard—in utmost scrutiny as he reached forward and took my Padawan braid between his thumb and forefinger, gently feeling the texture.

"Almost time this should be cut off, correct?"

"Y—yes."

He pulled back and smiled down at me. "A stutter from the brave Padawan?"

I only nodded, completely unable to form words. Coherent words, anyway.

"My mission is not yet complete. There is another planet I must travel to."

"Where?"

"Geonosis to find a Bounty Hunter named Jango Fett. He had a great deal to do with what was going on the planet I recently visited. Kitell?"

"Yes, Obi-Wan?"

"Please do not tell the other Masters where I have gone. I will make contact with them if I decide that I need to."

I nodded. "Be safe."

He leaned forward once more, touching my braid of hair again, before caressing my cheek with the back of his hand. "I will try." He kissed me on my forehead before pressing his nose into my hair and then standing, and then departed.

I waited.

This was the calm before the storm that I had been anticipating. Something was going to happen to Obi-Wan on this journey, and he knew it, too.

I was going to wait until he made contact with the other masters, and then be by Mace's side when the time came for us to go rescue him. I felt like this was going to be a lot bigger than just a rescue mission.

[A/N: Okay, this section definitely showcases rushed and crappy writing. I needed some filler space, but also a segment showcasing the relationship that Kitell and Obi-Wan share. I feel like this wasn't very well done. Their relationship is more important in the 19BBY segments. I feel like now it's just awkwardly done because it is still very early in the story for me. I'm hoping all my ideas will fall into place soon because I feel like what I'm writing down isn't the interesting story that I have going on in my head. :/ Oh, well! Thanks to all who have read this! I really appreciate it!]


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Again, nothing is mine, except for the OC and made up plot line. Any info that I gathered beyond the films and learned from the EU was learned from Wookiepedia.

[AN: Sorry for the delay in this update. I had quite a bit going on since the last one and just now sat back down to add to it. Thanks so much again to everyone who has been keeping up with it and to any new readers who have come along since the latest chapter that was posted!]

22BBY 

Never had the Temple been so desolate and despondent. There had been a still silence reverberating throughout the halls, walls, chambers, and rooms of the Jedi Temple since Obi-Wan's departure. Nobody said much of anything, nor uttered a breath: nervous or otherwise. People who walked past the hologram room could hear from the threshold old messages being played over and over as if the elder Jedi were searching for some sort of answer to present itself. Either that, or they had absolutely nothing else to do and meditation was not helping calm everyone for once.

The Padawans and Younglings were unsure of what was going on, but they felt something, as well. They were only going off of what their elders told them. Padawans were sitting cross-legged with the Younglings, reassuring them that Master Kenobi would return shortly, along with the young Skywalker.

They were telling themselves this to reassure not only the Younglings, but each other.

Sometime before the day's end, word had gotten out that I spoke daily with Master Kenobi and while I thought that this meant trouble and serious repercussions (not to mention, possible ridicule), everyone wanted to know if he told me anything about where he had gone, rather than inquire about our nearly inappropriate relationship, seeing as how I was not his Padawan learner. Maybe it was because I felt guilty from seeing and talking to him all the time that I had a paranoid inkling that it was an inappropriate relationship. Maybe it was seemingly normal from the outside looking in.

I found myself pacing my room all day, lingering in the archway of my door and sitting at the foot of my bed, prominent places where his presence had last been. I sensed that someone believed me to be missing and once focused on the feeling of loss, figured it was Master Windu who was wondering where I had kept myself all day. I went to find him in the records room, long since left behind by the other Masters who saw it useless to stumble around information they had already wrapped around and tucked inside their mind; they had all retreated to the Room of a Thousand Fountains to try and meditate once more, if only to kill time.

He looked over at me idling in the threshold of the door and nodded his head for me to follow him, where he led me outside before we suffocated inside.

"I have something to tell you, something the other Masters are aware of and have been troubled with."

"Yes, Master?" I felt my heart drop below my stomach. I was expecting to hear about a death.

"We have been grappling with it, not all day, but long enough now, and have finalized a plan to take action. We are not trying to shut you younger ones out, we are just trying to be reasonable with the situation."

"I understand."

"I have no doubt that you wouldn't understand. I will enlighten you shortly. Just let me have a few more moments of peace with my thoughts before I compose myself once more with better prepared words."

I stood, arms behind my back, breathing nothing but patient air.

We stood outside for a very long time.

Master Windu and I stood side by side and looked out onto the horizon where all light had finally dissipated beyond our fair city's horizon. The stale air from the day would become cooler as the nightly winds would kick up. All outer lights switched on simultaneously, sketching what resembled a dancing line of fire that split the night. The city basked in neon splendor, abiding citizens went hither thither, blissfully unaware about the severe tumult to come—their faith in the Republic was what helped them sleep at night, which we would strive to keep it that way. They zipped by in speeders and cruiser, only trying to get home more than anything else.

We had been standing outside since sunset and Mace didn't see fit to start speaking until darkness had fallen upon us. We bundled our robes closer to our bodies as the winds started, billowing the tan colored material, our hoods already pulled over our heads. Our shadows had grown miniscule in the artificial lighting that enshrouded us.

"They've captured Obi-Wan Kenobi." He spoke, looking out into the distance, his eyes squinting and straining slightly. "We received a broken hologram message of him trying to inform us of his whereabouts and his plan of action before it was intercepted as he was attacked. Anakin Skywalker and Padme Amidala went to rescue him, against regulation, and choosing to put themselves in danger by way of their heroism. The other Masters and I are taking initiative for this mess. I am taking an army of other Jedi with me to Geonosis as a rescue mission and Master Yoda is off to Kamino to look at the first fleet of Clone Troopers for back up."

Finally, the answer that Obi-Wan previously did not give me. "So the Clone Troopers were what Master Kenobi came across during his mission?"

The situation had to be far more profound other than the fact that there were Clone Troopers being produced, otherwise, why would Obi-Wan not want to share this fact with me? I felt like it was essential information. I also came to terms that it was not even his place to share such information with me to even begin with.

"Yes. They are for the Republic. And there are many in number already and they are always replicating and growing. Rapidly, at that."His eyes told me that he was going to dwell upon this subject matter no longer; it was unimportant in the face of what else he had to tell me in the short amount of time we had left with us before departing.

"I need you to accompany me, my young Padawan." It wasn't a question of interest as to if I _wanted _to go or not. He was telling me, through his request, that I would be going regardless of how I felt. He must have had it in the back of his head that I would have second thoughts to sit this one out, and if this was true, then he could not have been any further from my actual intentions and mentality.

He gave me the most somber look I had ever seen touch his face. He grabbed my shoulder and squeezed tightly, his gaze stern. "It is unclear as to if we will return."

I could only nod my head, taking the statement in with anything but elation. I didn't know what exactly was going to happen upon arriving on Geonosis, but I knew that it was going to be the most daunting mission I had ever gone on in my entire life. It also had the foreboding feeling that it could possibly be my last, marking upon and taking Master Windu's warning and words to heart.

"The mission holds significant merit for you to prove your mettle and accomplish your last Trial. If you come back you will be inducted into Knighthood within a fortnight. Because I am leading this mission, it is critical that you _must _follow my lead."He paused after this, chewing his next words over carefully before laying another monumental mass of information on me.

"You are co-captain on this one. We have always been one of the best pairs, Kitell, and I cannot express what faith I have in you." With this, his hard look had softened and he gave a genuine look of pride, for the first time I could recall.

"And because I am leading and will be confronting Count Dooku and Newt Gunray and all other Separatist leaders involved, I need you to focus on finding Master Kenobi and Young Skywalker and Amidala. But you must remain vigilant of the droid threat that will inevitably fall upon you. You will have your fellow Jedi Brothers and Sisters by your side. You should have no qualms or fears of bringing yourself to this planet."

I let a shaky breath expel from my lungs and nodded curtly. "For once, Master, I am not afraid."

He turned to face me, turning his back against the part of the city he had previously been speaking to and staring out at to look at me instead. He put both of his hands on my shoulders and steadied the both of us through his grip. "I believe you."

He pulled away from me and gestured for me to follow him to a faded blue courier ship that I would pilot to a space station so we could join the other Jedi boarding a Republic Starship Cruiser with the destination of Geonosis.

Master Windu paused before entering the courier with his back now facing me. His head was bowed, and he muttered, "Everyone's fate out there will be the same, and as always, the Force will be with us."

Geonosis was scorching. I had never set foot on the planet and directly before landing, I expected nothing less than a humid and muggy temperature. The cracked rocks lifted steam through the allotted space, yet did not bust the terrain any more than it already was. Fine beads of sweat stood out quite noticeably on the necks of my comrades as we trekked through the heat and split rocks below our feet.

I followed Master Windu down a darkened corridor that promised a harsh light at the end of it where several Separatist leaders were perched within their private balcony to speculate the fight occurring below betwixt the three humans and the beasts native to the planet. A gunslinger looking fellow clad in metal armor was standing in taut anxiety with his arms crossed, looking out of place in comparison to the other men standing around, almost idly. Master Windu drew his saber, straight out in front of the gunslinger and directed his speech toward Count Dooku.

"This party is over." He threw a quick glance in my direction and nodded his head towards the pit below.

I looked over the ledge and saw our garrison of Jedi bursting onto the scene, sabers already drawn. Geonosian onlookers scattered in all directions, desperate to leave the battle that was about to take place. Perhaps they were also afraid of being persecuted for something in the face of amassed justice. Droids were stalking out of the shadows beyond in more than enough numbers. I placed my hand upon the ledge and hauled myself over, focusing on the Force and trusting it to allow me to land safely on my feet so I could aid my friends and so I could see to my mission of finding Obi-Wan and company.

Once my feet touched the dusty ground, my first instinct was to run in any direction to get away from the enormous amount of crossfire the best I could. When I did, I tore off toward the Reek that Anakin had wrangled with Padme and Obi-Wan in tow while deflecting blaster shots with my cyan blue saber. The sounds of bodies—metallic, alien, and human—dropping with a sinister thud was just as loud as the war sounds made by all battalion of both sides.

The weight of the second saber I had stuffed inside my robe was oddly heavy. Another Jedi crossed paths with me and we threw our loose lightsabers in unison at Anakin and Obi-Wan who freed themselves of the handcuffs their wrists were bound with. Obi-Wan jumped off the Reek, caught my bicep in his hand and tightened his grip, running, and dragging me along. He gave me a slight crazed look, several emotions I had never known he held blazing behind his eyes, and pressed a ferocious and panicked kiss on the corner of my mouth, as though this were our final goodbye, before he took it upon himself to go face (and hopefully execute) the Acklay that had previously been sent out to execute _him _to begin with.

I ran to aid Master Mundi who was about to be overwhelmed by a ridiculous amount of Super Battle Droids. A handful of others on our side went to tackle the obscene amount of droidekas, some failing to break their shields and falling in the path created by the droids' extensive rounds of blaster fire. Somewhere, an Electromagnetic Pulse Launcher was going off at erratic intervals, the launches being more counterproductive than anything. Everyone had kicked up so much dust from the red dirt we were scuttling and shuffling around on, that everyone had begun to fight squinty eyed and inefficiently. The droids tromped on just fine.

I was briefly and abruptly shaken from my thoughts of the battlefield when something violently knocked me in the back of my boot, nearly taking out my Achilles heel and knocking me over. I twisted my ankle when I wheeled around to look at my assailant. It was the gunslinger I had seen in the balcony of this ancient amphitheatre of a death arena. More specifically, it was the helmet of the gunslinger's costume, still spitting sparks from where a neck and body below the aforementioned neck had been attached. I looked up from this discovery and found my Master standing and staring in the same direction with his saber still outstretched from in body in a post assault stance.

There was no remorse in the face I looked at and that made me more nervous than anything. The Jedi Way was slowly depleting from Master Windu's mentality and life and I was the only one who noticed. I knew for a fact that the Jedi Masters had sensed it, but moreover, I believed that they were choosing to ignore his change for the sake of keeping the Order intact so they could hold on to the last bits of chaos control they all held together, but something or someone was bound to become undone in a short amount of time.

More dust was kicked up from a transport aerial craft when a battalion, much larger than the droids and Jedi present combined, dropped soldiers clad in white and color striped armor down to us who proceeded to annihilate the CIS threat. The Clone Troopers and come at last, and they were more than prepared to attack.

Some Jedi began to retreat. Master Windu came sprinting behind me and I didn't know it until he all but slammed into the back, covering me with his arm.

"Come along, Kitell, we have to leave."

I stumbled along with him, looking over my shoulder and the forgotten and now meaningless corpse of the gunslinger and his helmet that lay closer to me. A small boy knelt on the ground, cradling it in his arms and casted Master Windu a vicious glare. He watched the two of us as

I complied, falling back into the paternally sheltering circle of his arm.

"Yes, Master," giving the boy a nearly sympathetic look, pitying him losing a friend, but the pity was extinguished with the logic and reason that the gunslinger had been a threat and was better off dead.

I was adapting to Mace's newer mentality. It was almost cold-hearted and fully unapologetic. And I knew it wouldn't be the last of such swinging emotions.

The look in the boy's eyes and deadly countenance mirrored a look that I would not know of or experience until someone more than important to my life would be taken away from me in retaliation.

It was the look of revenge.

[AN: Sorry for another short chapter, but I have been distracted by a prose piece I have been writing on the side for a while. I hope to have longer chapters once I get all of the pivotal flashbacks out of the way. As always, thanks to everyone for reading. The audience I have and the reviews that everyone has given mean means a lot.]


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Again, nothing is mine, except for the OC and made up plot line. Any info that I gathered beyond the films and learned from the EU was learned from Wookiepedia.

[A/N: I want to apologize for the delay! I am working on a few short stories at the same time, one of which, for a competition and I have neglected this tale, which I am quite fond of. I hope to not have such a long delay again. Thanks to all who have read and reviewed this. I send a special thanks to Deathcab4kimmie, who has given me great feedback and is a valued constant reader of this story!]

15 BBY

Repsah's tip seemed to be a strange twist of fate at first; strange, in that, I hadn't lucked out on such a bit of information in a long time. The more time I spent in the desert of Tatooine only fuelled me to disbelieve what I was told about the location of the Negotiator. Either that, or my Hunting skills were deteriorating day by day. Things got better once I had stake outs in Mos Eisley. It just felt _right _to be there.

It had been difficult to find living spaces on Tatooine. Not only difficult, I didn't want to live somewhere where I had to put a name down on a registry and put into records somewhere. I wanted to lie low—extremely and almost dangerously low—whilst I found myself in the heart of Mos Eisley. The last thing I needed was the Hutts to find out some random person dressed in an old Jet Trooper uniform was walking around aimlessly on the planet. I doubted that the news would travel to Mos Epsa that quickly, but at the same time, the Hutts ran every other space port (however low key it seemed to people not in the know about the underground world of villainous treachery) just as much as their headquarters in Mos Epsa. They had tabs on everyone who stood out and be going out into the daylight in a uniform that had not been in use for more than six years was a huge red flag.

I only felt comfortable staying in the city during the day. I figured it would be in my best interest to kip out somewhere in the desert at night instead of finding a temporary living space. It would save me the money I didn't actually have, and I had enough weapons and ammunition to protect myself. And besides, Master Windu had taught me how to live off the land and watch after myself by dropping me off on even dodgier planets in the Outer Rim and then coming back for me days later to see how well I fared, or if I failed. I fared.

My uniform had begun to haunt me. My biggest worry was being seen around on a regular basis and that someone—another Bounty Hunter, most likely—would alert the Hutts about the wandering Hunter not marked down in their census catalogue of the somewhat self-employed. I was working on a false name and background. If caught and interrogated, I was going to be Nilia Wylit from Alderaan: scorned offspring of a senator done wrong by Bail Organa and his friends from the Jedi Order. As Nilia Wylit, my job was to seek out exiled Jedi in order to assassinate them and bring justice to my fallen (yet, fictitious) father.

And if one of my interrogators attempted to search my name through their databases and did not find any records, I would leave the planet immediately. If I could not leave in time, I would make up yet another story about how the Jedi or Organa's people had wiped the history of my family's name from any records that were ever created and I had in turn become a renegade, taking the law into my own hands.

I was dealing in so many lies (the majority of them had not been spoken yet, they mainly severed as screwy safety nets), but these lies were saving my life.

So for the sake of avoiding a great big story of meaningless and false trite all from being seen in my Bounty Hunter gear and taken to the Hutts, I scourged odd compounds close by the Cantina for a storage unit to keep it in for the time being. I figured it was safer to promenade on this particular Outer Rim territory as I really was. Appearance was everything in this galaxy—it was how judgments were made and judgments meant a great deal—and I was not going to gamble what little time I had on this planet from making the wrong impression.

People in the Outer Rim were too far from Coruscant, the Jedi Temple, and were not involved in politics and altercations regarding my kind. Nobody would recognize my true face. As a matter of fact, I was sure that hardly anybody around here, and people on other planets even _closer_ to 'civilization' even knew who I was when I was a Jedi. It had been years since I last properly showed my true face to the public. Not only that, I had shorter hair and long since kissed my Padawan braid goodbye. Though it was gone, I still felt the need when deep in thought to touch where it used to be, as though it was still there to give me comfort and guidance. It reminded me of a different time.

An easier time when the braid first started to grow out.

The Cantina in Mos Eisley was a stark contrast to the one back on Ord Mantell. It was nicer, livelier, and breathed a more dangerous atmosphere to whoever dared step foot beyond the threshold. It was always smoky in the Cantina. I soon found out that patrons had rolled some sort of spice with a paper substance, copying something spacers adapted from a planet in another galaxy (and brought back to our own) who called the act, 'smoking.' I didn't know much about substances and spices across the galaxy and I had been intrigued with it ever since I set foot in the establishment two days ago.

"What's that you have there?" I finally asked the only other human present when I sat at the bar, a seat in between the two of us with him to my left. He had dark hair and a handsome, yet scruffy, face.

"Why, this is a bad habit is what it is. You don't need to know about it, little lady."

I restrained myself from snorting at this particular sentiment. "Is it like a death stick?"

He gave me a pitying sort of smile. "Not really. But they called 'em death sticks wherever they used to be from."

"Well, then, why do you do it?"

He gave me a puzzled look, showing he didn't really understand what I was asking him."What do you mean?"

"If it's called a death stick, then it's clearly bad for you. So why do you do it?"

"I have a very stressful life."He grinned at me, as though that were something brag worthy.

"Oh, from what?" It didn't come out patronizing, and if it did, it wasn't my intention to sound so snarky.

He obviously didn't take it that way as he continued. He leaned in closely with a sly grin on his face. "I'm a smuggler." He gave me a brief once over, paying particular attention to what I was wearing, which was something startling similar to his outfit.

I had picked up some 'civilian' clothing on an early trip to Corellia: navy straight leg pants, black boots, white v-neck t-shirt(dirtied from sand and grime blown upon it since my arrival), and a black vest. A utility belt was wound so snugly around me that it was almost like an appendage. It held my thermal detonators and other portable artillery. My blaster was strapped to my leg and my saber lay at my hip, dangling from its security clip. My lightsaber was much too valuable and dangerous (in regards to my true identity being discovered) to keep by itself just in case someone managed to break into my locker in the storage space I miraculously found. If anything from my Jet Trooper uniform was stolen, I could always sneak back to Coruscant and find another long since forgotten and obsolete in the eyes of the Empire uniform in a trade shop or dumping compound.

I gave him a timid smile. He eyes lingered at my lips briefly and he ordered me a drink and another one for himself. I thanked him for the drink and sipped it. It was all right. He downed his in one go and grimaced.

He must have felt the need to press on, even longer still. "What about you, sweetheart? You look like a real rebel rouser." He nodded toward me, indicating that he had passed some judgment and made some assumptions about me based purely upon my attire. I couldn't be too offended—he was wearing something similar and already admitted to being a scoundrel. Again, appearance was everything in this galaxy.

I smiled shyly at that. "Who, me? Nah."

"Really?" His passive face brightened enormously as he cocked his head to the side and gave me a searching look. I could imagine the new framework of me he was building in his head as we spoke, trying to figure out who or what I really was seeing as how he was incorrect. "You look like a Spacer…or a Smuggler."

"Why do you assume that?" Of course I knew why. I just wanted to hear him say it, to affirm my belief.

"Anyone I've ever seen dressed like you has had a less than honest job." He said this rather flippantly, as though a dishonest job was more ethical than having an honest job. "People dressed like you, like _us_, are usually from Corellia—myself included—and almost always fill the stereotype. I'd say you were maybe in their military with the way your hold yourself." His eyes squinted slightly in thought, examining me some more. I felt like he was staring right into my soul. It was almost as intense as the old Jedi Masters regarding me. "There's a strict sort of discipline there, but it looks like you kinda stepped away from what had been drilled into you. But if you were in the military, you would have the Bloodstripes decorating a line down your pants legs if you were in their military. But then again, you could always have a reason to keep a low profile if you went AWOL on them and removed the decoration."

"Well, I'd say that you are completely incorrect about me. I am no Spacer, Smuggler, Spice Runner, or renegade ex-militant."

"What do you do then, sweetheart?"He was grinning now, intrigued.

It was my turn to lean in and be sly with my own words, "I'm hunting for exiled Jedi."

He looked at me a moment and then busted out laughing. It was a deep, hearty sound. He banged his palm against the bar causing several people around us to become onlookers before they went back to their own business. I cracked a smile at him and started laughing along. So the truth, my true story, was laughable in the eyes of even the shadiest people.

This proved to be very valuable to me.

If people didn't believe the truth, then I could hardly get into any trouble. It astounded me that I would get into more trouble by just being seen as a Bounty Hunter than telling my story. I doubt I would even be believed if I said I was a Jedi. I smoothly unclipped my lightsaber and shoved it into my oversized blaster holster to hide it, just in case.

When his laughing fit had tapered off, he wiped his eyes and looked at me, smiling. "I'm sorry, sweetie. That was a good one."

I only smiled, to show that I was joking to begin with.

"Hunting Jedi. All the Jedi have been long gone now."

"I know." I bit my bottom lip. Maybe he would know where to find one, or knew some gossip about them. Even if he just knew some rumors, regardless of how old the news was, it would be helpful to me. Most times, people like this guy had more information than figureheads, villains, and Bounty Hunters themselves. "But don't you think that maybe one, just _one_, survived the Purge?"

He cocked his head to the side again and planted his palm on his thigh. "I don't know, actually. I hear loose talk about this man from time to time. Comes in here a whole lot."

My heart sunk down to my stomach. It hadn't happened to me in so long that I almost forgot the feeling. "Really, now?"

"Yes, sweetie." He flagged the bartender down and told him to bring me another drink. "Older guy. Not _old _old, though, you know?"

I nodded to show that I did indeed know.

"He supposedly lives out in the sand somewhere. Some people call him the Sandman. What kind of weird name is _that_?" He seemed to think on this for a while, as though it actually bothered him, got under his skin. "He's a hermit, so maybe that's why people have so much to say about him. People are afraid of things they don't understand, make up stories about people who are a little off." He chewed over his next words. "Me, I think he's a deaf-mute or something because anytime someone says something to him, he don't say nothing back. And no one's heard him talk. He comes in here for one drink a night, but no one's ever heard him order his drink. It's like the bartender just _knows_. And that's kind of hokey to me to begin with, if you ask me. He orders one drink, but always stays here one hour exactly." He spoke his ending sentence with a quiet sort of pondering. "Maybe he's some sort of Seer or Thinker or something." He came back stronger, with firm belief in his words and countenance. "But I don't think he's no Jedi. If he was, he would have been collected by now."

"Would he?"I wanted to make sure. I didn't believe him to be reliable on what he had just shared me, but I appreciated his opinion and conversation all the same.

"Oh, sure. Bounty Hunters never stay on this planet long, but there are _many _on the planet day in and day out. They're good at what they do, otherwise they wouldn't be doing nothing. Someone would have found out if he was a Jedi by now."

I went back to my drink and he watched me. We sat in silence. The band went through a few songs. The music wasn't very good, but then again, what Cantina music was? It was another few minutes before he said something, and when he did, he lightly tapped the back of his hand against my forearm.

"That's him."

I turned to look at the man who sat down a seat away from me to my right.

He walked in wearing a much worn down cloak. It had been very battered from all of the sandstorms that it must have seen in the years he had taken up residence here. He pushed the hood back and short, shaggy graying dirty blonde hair made itself present. He had a short beard to match. He ran a hand through his hair in a familiar way, closing his intense, electric blue eyes while he did it. He opened them again and I gave them a brief once-over via staring at his profile. What I saw there made me stumble in my chair. The man to my left snatched me up by my elbow and steadied.

"Easy, sweetheart. You going to be okay if I leave you here alone? This guy gives me the creeps. I always shuffle on out whenever he comes in. More people will clear out, too."

"I'll be fine."

"You're sure?" He looked at me intently, his dark eyes softening.

"Yes."

He nodded and gave my arm a soft squeeze. "You know, I'm here until tomorrow night. If you want to meet up again, same time."

I nodded to show him I heard what he said, but didn't give him an answer. I think he knew my answer was going to be a negative. He nodded and looked at me again before leaving. He never looked back.

I kept my back turned to the hermit that just walked in. I was afraid to look at him again because I was afraid of what I was going to see.

Thunder and mystery behind brilliant eyes.

My hand slowly moved to my face and my fingertips traced a small line back and forth at the corner of my mouth.

One hour. I had one hour before he would leave.

I breathed deep, trying to steady the beating of my heart before I swiveled around.

He was already looking at me, had been for a long time, probably. He had aged, as everyone had. His face was still boyish and undeniably handsome. He looked more human, frail, and fragile, than superhuman and perfect. I knew that he would not break the strange vow of silence in this Cantina and risk whatever he believed he would be risking by speaking; just as I wasn't going to risk wearing my uniform.

He instead drained his drink and stood, giving me a look to follow him. I let him leave a head of me, just as I let him walk several feet ahead of me. We walked for what seemed like days. I didn't know Mos Eisley was that spread out. Stormtroopers marched along, people sped by in landcruisers, and other people rushing by with their daily errands in mind were duly noted by me. All I could see was his warped and faded cloak and him walking slumped in the distance.

He stopped walking when we were in the desert so I could catch up. When I did, he finally spoke.

"I cannot believe you survived."

"Are you surprised?"

He gazed down at me studiously, placing a hand on each shoulder. "No. The best of us were killed. I just didn't know if that included you."

"I can't believe you're actually here. One of the Rebels told me that you were here, but I didn't know if it was true or—"

He grabbed my face on his hands and bent down, pressing his lips firmly against mine, silencing me. He pulled away timidly, thumbs tracing my cheeks gently. His eyes had softened. "Kitell."

"Yes, Obi-Wan?" I breathed his name barely above a whisper.

He never answered me.

He took one of my hands in his and led me through the desert.

Both suns were setting.

[AN: This part is definitely going to pick up after the next flashback or two. Just a hint as to what may happen when this part continues: I may need to change the rating of the story as this relationship is rekindled and becomes deeper. ]


End file.
